iWould Never Date You
by cliche catastrophe
Summary: A rumour starts. Freddie angers Sam. She won't let it go. LOTS OF DIALOGUE. T for mild swearing in later chapters.
1. Never

I was listening (not really, more preoccupied with my chicken leg) to Freddie talking about some generic tech nerd equipment or something, when a seventh grade girl with ribbons in her hair, 'I [heart] ?' written on her hands and a cheesy grin tottered up to us.

"Erm, can we help you?" I asked, annoyed that this kid interrupted my feast time, and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," she giggled, looking up at me and Frednerd. She covered her mouth as her girlish giggle seeped out. "I just wanted to know if the rumours about you were true?" She smiled brightly and sickeningly and tucked her preppy curly prissy hair behind her ear and clutched her books.

"What rumours about Sam?" Freddie stepped forward, curious.

"I can speak for myself, nub." I growled and glowered at him and the girl's eyebrows furrowed. I turned back to her. "What rumours about me?" I demanded, stepping forward and gripped her arm.

"Sam, release the minor." I breathed through my nose and let her go, scoffing at Freddie.

"U-uh," she said, her smile clearly now forced. "Well, my friend told me that people were saying that you and Freddie were dating." I stepped back, evidently surprised. Even Freddie let out a little girlish gasp, like the really cliché reactions you see in cheesy movies. I rolled my eyes at it but quickly returned to the current topic.

"What?" I raised my voice. "Who started this rumour?"

"I-Is it true?" Wow, this girl is brave to be sticking around.

"Run," Freddie whispered to her.

The seventh grader looked frightened at me and skidded around, making a sharp exit with the helpful advice from Freddie.

"Of course we're not dating!" I grumbled. "Who came up with that chiz?"

"Totally," Freddie murmured in disbelief. "I'd _never_ date you."

"What do you mean?" I looked at him accusingly, a little hurt.

"I mean-uh-the likelihood of us dating is zero, so…"

"Right…"

"…because we hate each other, yeah?" Freddie questioned me.

"Of course. But what do you mean, you'd never date me? Am I that repulsive?"

"Not at all!" He answered quickly. I raised my eyebrows. "I mean, yes!" I frowned. "I am not enjoying this conversation, Sam!"

"I'm not enjoying being called repulsive, _Freddie_!"

"I don't think you're repulsive, _Sam_!"

"But I thought you hated me," I wailed in confusion.

"Yes…but, no. Look, this is making my brain hurt and brain _never hurts_."

"Just like you'd _never _date me?"

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"How did you mean it, then?" I inquired.

"I just meant that…" Freddie was stuck for words. Freak. "Could you really ever see us dating, Sam?"

I thought about it. "I'm not answering that question," I replied simply.

"Is that a yes?" He said, eyebrows raised high in surprise.

"I SAID NO COMMENT, FREDDIFER!"

"Huh?"

"Just tell me what you meant by _never_?"

"I meant-"

"Oh shut up, dork."

"But you just said to tell-"

"Shut your cake hole, boy." Sam growled and slammed her locker walking away.

Freddie slouched back and looked at the skies. "I am so confused right now."


	2. So Stupid

"Carly he hates my guts," I whined to her whilst shovelling beef hotpot into my mouth. "He said I was repulsive." Carly turned around from the computer and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Close your mouth whilst your eating, Sam." Her brow crinkled and she hopped off the seat, hopping and curling up the seat next to me, her feet pushing into my side. I grumbled. "What do you expect Sam? You're programmed to torture him. And you _also_ hate his guts."

"Even so, that doesn't give him the right to hate me back," I huffed, putting my empty bowl on the floor and crossing my arms after wiping my mouth on the back of my sleeve. "This sucks." Before I could continue with my complaining, the very person provoking my annoyance walked through the door a grin on his face. Ugh, I hate it when he's smiling.

"Hey Fredweird," he looked over to me and rolled his eyes. "You suck."

"Random," he noted.

"I just thought I'd remind you," I told him, sticking my foot out to trip him up as he walked past and into the kitchen, putting down his stupid laptop on the countertop. Carly yawned and got up to make herself a drink, rubbing her eyes. "And also, your face is weird." Freddie's grin was gone, of course, no thanks to me. I felt a bit better.

"Why does she hate me so much?" I heard Freddie say to Carly and pretended not to listen, flicking through the channels on the television and drinking my soda.

"She doesn't hate you," Carly answered. I growled. I've told her countless times; will she ever get it into her head that I do not like that vile human being, Fredward Benson. "She just tries to."

"What was that, Carls?" I shouted, forehead wrinkled and lips pursed.

"Nothing, Sam. Go back to watching Pokémon."

"I will," I replied, pushing my hair out of my face and leaning on my palm. "Some best friend," I murmured.

"So Sam," Freddie attempted to start conversation, bringing his laptop as he came and sat next to me. I shifted up the couch away from him, a look of disgust on my face. "What are we going to do about this ridiculous rumour going around school?"

There he goes again with the _ridiculous_, like he's above dating me or something.

"What rumour?" Carly piped in.

"Nothing," I said.

"There's a rumour going around school that-" I kicked him. "Ow." He continued anyway. "—that me and Sam are DATING! OW, SAM!" I kicked him again. "That hurt," he whined, rubbing his leg.

"That you and Sam are dating? Really? That's interesting." Carly smiled, raising her brow.

"Why is that interesting?" Freddie said, looking between me and Carly. I rolled her eyes.

"Carly seems to have plucked this idea out of Nonsense Land that I like yo-which I don't."

"Why don't you like me?" Freddie asked, curious.

"Because you're a big nub," I replied simply.

"Of course."

I sighed. "Anyway, Freddifer, I sorted it out." Freddie turned back to me.

"How?"

"I know a guy-"

"Wh-"

"Who knows a guy."

"I'm not even going to ask," he said.

"I hate you."

"I reciprocate that sentiment," he said, opening his laptop and putting his feet up on the table. I watched him log onto Splashface and read through his notifications and then enter and scroll through some of the comments on their latest video. "It seems like even some of the fans think we're dating."

"What the hell is wrong with people of this century? Are they freaking crazy or on mushrooms or something?" I sunk into the couch, annoyed.

"I know, the idea of us dating is so stupid."

"Ugh, stop doing that," I complained.

"Doing what?"

"Acting like you're too good for me or something," I replied.

"Oh so you're allowed to act like you're too good for me?" He inquired.

"That's because when I do it, it's the truth."

"B-"

"No one likes a liar, Benson."


	3. Complicated

"Take Gibby for instance," I began.

"Oh Sam, are you ever going to let this go?" Carly complained, tucking a strand of raven hair behind her ears. She sighed, crossing her dainty arms over and quirking her brow at me. I continued nonetheless.

"I pick on him and he doesn't hate me," I finished.

"I'm pretty sure the boy doesn't like you all too much, though." Carly turned to her locker, pulling out some Shakespeare crap we were meant to read for English which I, being Sam Puckett, obviously did not do. "You make his life hell, but not half us much as you do for Freddie."

"Bullshit," I cursed. I spotted a familiar chubby shirtless boy canoodling past. "Oi, Gibster!" Gibbby turned to me, a look of surprise on his face and pointed at himself. I nodded. He turned around, searching frantically for another person I may refer to as Gibster, but in vein hope. And to no avail, he finally succumbed and sluggishly walked towards me.

"Yes, Sam?"

"You don't hate me, right?"

"Gibby's got too much room for love and not enough room for hate," he said, clicking his tongue and rubbing circles in his belly. It was kind of _very_ disturbing.

"Stop referring to yourself in 3rd person, Gibby." I rolled my eyes. "Would you consider me your friend?" Gibby took too long to answer so I stepped forward and took a fistful of his shirt.

"YES SAM! Of course Sam." I let him go and smiled. "Also," I said, interrupted his attempted get away. He froze and turned back round. "Would you say somebody would be lucky to date me?"

"Look, Sam. If you're trying to ask me out, I'm sorry but I've got a gir-"

"I'm not even going to tell you how stupid that idea is because I think you're already aware, but just to reiterate this is out curiosity and I have no intention of ever going on a date with the likes of you," I informed him in disgust.

"Sam," Carly whispered sternly.

"You're a charmer, you are," Gibby said sarcastically. "Anybody would be lucky to date you, Sam."

"I'm not going to ignore that sarcasm, Gibby Gibson. I'll give you a three second head start before I smash your face sideways," Gibby turned on his heel, burning marks in the floor as he scurried away. 1…2…and then some doofus grabbed the back of my shirt. I turned to see Freddie gripping the red fabric. So I was right; it was some doofus. "Release," I said through gritted teeth. Freddie held his hands up in surrender. I brushed down my shirt.

"Go away Fredpuss, nobody likes you."

"I like Freddie," Carly butted in.

Freddie smirked at Sam. "Carly doesn't count."

"Hey, why not?" She whined.

"Because you have to like him!"

"Not necessarily," she retorted.

"Yes necessarily." She gave up. "Anyway, what was I saying earlier?" Oh yes, Freddie. Wait, he's right behind me. I turned to tell him to go get lost but he's already made his way over to his own locker to get his books. "Right. Freddie. He has no right to hate me."

"Sam, just drop this whole Freddie thing, please? It's really starting to set my teeth on edge. And I hardly ever get annoyed, I'M A CALM PERSON!" I arched my brow at her and she apologised. "I think I'm coming down with something," she said, catching her breath from shouting. "The only reason you're so obsessed by the fact that he thinks he's too good to date you (apparently) is because you secretly wish he would date you! Ha, there I said it."

"That's so not true," I complained, hand on hip.

"Well it's no a lie," She replied, opposite hand on opposite hip.

Freddie rejoined us. "What are you girls arguing about?" He looked concerned, and his brown hair looks untamed and messier than usual, flopping in his doe brown eyes and I really did not just say that so you can kind of just pretend that never happened, k.

"None of your beeswax,"

"The wax of you two bees is my business because you're my friends."

"But you said you hated me. How can I be your friend and be hated simultaneously."

"Not this again," Freddie sighed. "Our relationship is very complicated, Sam. Let's just leave it at that."

"But you can't just-"

"I can and I will. I'm tired of you getting the last word."

"Too b-"

"N-"

"F-"

"Puckett," he said, squishing my lips together with his fingers. The bell rang.


	4. Change

"She hasn't shut up about you for the past three days," I heard Carly say as I rounded the corner. I leant up against the wall, hugging my salami stick and listening in. "All I've heard is reasons why you have no right to hate her. It's Freddie this, Freddie that. I love her and she's my best friend, but frankly it's irritating."

My jaw went slack, horrified. I stomped my foot and walked up to them and they stopped talking abruptly. "You guys talking about anything…" I opened my locker, grabbed a random book to preoccupy my fists so I didn't punch my only two friends in thief faces, slammed it and turned back to them "…interesting?" I shot Carly a fiery glare and she bit her lip, ashamed.

"N-" Carly began, red-faced.

"Yes, actually." Freddie crossed his arms. "About how much you apparently talk about me, Puckett." He smirked slightly, a glint in his eyes. I narrowed my own.

"About your nubbish tendencies retard," I spat. Freddie rolled his eyes, taking out his phone.

"And she wonders why I hate her," he mumbled. I growled, feeling hurt.

I looked at Carly and raised my eyebrows – she mimed something about how Freddie doesn't hate me at all and about how she thinks it's quite the most opposite of sentiments and I also realise you must think it's weird how telepathic me and Carly are at times.

I glanced back at Freddie who was texting rapidly. "Going to cry to m-" I stopped myself when he muttered something.

"What was that?" I asked, brow quirked.

"Nothing," he muttered, brushing his hair out of his face. Carly chuckled, shaking her head.

"What did he say?" I asked, looking at her and him accusingly. I folded my arms over and leant against my locker, expectant. "Tell me," I croaked, taking a fistful of his stripy polo's collar. I gagged at the vomit inducing stripes.

Before I could pull back my fist to catapult punch him in the nose, Carly spoke. "It seems you're become more predictable, Sam. Freddie here knew what you were going to say." Carly giggled.

"Oh yeah?" I said, a little nervous. HA. Me? Nervous. Psh. "What then?"

Freddie looked reluctantly at Carly who giggled. He turned to me with a sickeningly broad smile. "Going to cry to Momma Benson or is she hassling you for another tick bath?" I stopped my eyes from bulging and gulped before shaking my head fiercely.

"Nyeah," was the only response I could formulate in time.

"Nyeah," he retorted equally as pathetic.

I changed the subject hastily. "Homework?" I asked.

He opened his Human Biology Workbook and handed me a filled in sheet. I folded it up and stuffed it in the pocket of my jeans. "Thanks, nub." I bumped his fist and turned around, storing my salami stick back in my locker for lunch and walked three paces ahead of Freddie to our lesson.

"You two never fail to astonish me," I hear Carly say behind us as she left at the first junction to head to English.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't talk about you to Carly, just so you know."

"Mmm, sure." He nodded. I scowled, feeling uncomfortable.

"I don't hate you, Frednub." I said it so quickly and so quietly that I wasn't entirely sure whether he had even heard what I'd said, but I quickly shuffled past the others into class as the bell rang and avoided the back row and stole some smart girl's seat.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Freddie, looked dumfounded.

That makes a change.


End file.
